


At Least I've Got You In My Head

by Nerd_Queen



Series: I Don't Wanna Talk About It, I Don't Wanna Think About It [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Otabek Altin, Dream Sex, Guilt, Light Angst, Locker Room Sex, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, one-sided pining but not really, roommate is implied to be denis ten, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 16:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14548749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerd_Queen/pseuds/Nerd_Queen
Summary: Otabek, at 19 seemed he had everything he wanted.Except for the one thing he could never have





	At Least I've Got You In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> So um my laptop broke so I wrote this smut until I can get back to wips soooo here *throws this and runs*  
> *pops back in* Title comes from Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko which is like my current mood(tm)

Otabek Altin  was on top of the world. His body was buzzing, his mind was reeling. He’d just placed 2nd in the fucking  _Olympics_ _._

The first Kazakh silver medallist, standing proudly between (though embarrassingly dwarfed by) Christophe Giacometti and Yuuri Katsuki. 

Yuuri had fought hard for that gold medal, there was no denying it. He’d clawed his way up the world rankings by sheer determination to first and it had paid off. He’d even broken another record- which Otabek internally remarked with glee had to be broken to secure the Japanese skaters position. 

Christophe, on the other hand Otabek held a warm sense of pride for in his heart. Christophe had stumbled in Barcelona but beat Yuri and Viktor to gold in the European championships last year, clinching silver a few weeks back in Moscow between Viktor and Georgi.

Otabek was smiling, he was grinning until his cheeks hurt. He never smiled on the podium, even when he won. He was overflowing with pride.

\--

The press conference and interviews took much longer than Otabek had anticipated, but then again that was the price of winning the first Olympic medal in Kazakh history. 

He’d been hounded by the press longer than Christophe and Yuuri, probably because while he was a podium favourite this season he was still a dark horse in the competition, and unexpected contender for the Olympic podium.

He sighed, stretching his sore limbs as he staggered into the locker room, pulling his team jacket off with a groan. He felt exhaustion seep back into his bones, eyelids drooping heavily as he peeled the rest of his costume off, the sweat-soaked Lycra sticking to his skin.

He pulled his towel from his duffel bag, tugging his socks and underwear off, stumbling into the shower.

The hot – albeit weak – spray was a god given relief against his taut skin and aching muscles. He tilted his head back with an exasperated sigh, feeling the tension seep out of his body. It had been a long day, a hard-fought battle and years of preparation, years of clawing his way to the top; and it had paid off.

After thoroughly showering, Otabek shut off the water and tugged his towel down from where he’d thrown it over the shower wall, wrapping it around his waist and sauntering out of the showers.

He ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing the dripping, dark locks out of his eyes as he ambled back into the locker rooms.

“Hey there.” Came a softly spoken greeting, the voice familiar to Otabek’s ears, though he still jumped, turning towards the voice.

“Yura,” Otabek sighed, turning towards his friend who was sat on the bench, legs crossed and golden hair flowing down his shoulders. “Y-you scared me.”

“Sorry~” Yuri hummed, standing up slowly and stepping towards Otabek.  “I was just trying to get you alone, you were swarmed by the press, I couldn’t get to you.”

“Y-yeah, you’re telling me. I couldn’t seem to get a break.” Otabek smiled shyly as Yuri walked closer to him. “Um, Yura?”

“Yes?” Yuri asked, tilting his head as he loomed over Otabek, face inches from his as his long, dark lashes fluttered over his deep emerald eyes.

“Y-you’re, uh, a little close.” Otabek stammered, face heating as he felt a lock of Yuri’s lengthy golden tresses fall against the wet skin of his shoulder. 

“Oh?” Yuri asked softly, a smug, teasing lilt to his voice. “Am I?”

“I-I um...” Otabek mumbled, looking up at the Russian towering over him, feeling his back hit one of the lockers.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Yuri asked, taking Otabek’s chin between his fingers. 

“I-I um Y-Yura I-I uh...” Otabek pursed his lips, tongue-tied as he shook his head timidly.

“No?” Yuri inquired, watching Otabek shake his head again. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Otabek shook his head down once more.

“Okay...” Yuri murmured, skirting a hand to Otabek’s hip, fingers brushing the damp skin of Otabek’s side as he leaned in, chest against Otabek’s and lips barely touching his ear.. “Then... how do I make you feel?” Yuri whispered, hair tickling the shell of Otabek’s ear, thigh slowly shifting between his.

Otabek gasped, head tipping back against the thin steel of the locker as he gripped Yuri’s arm.

“You were so beautiful out there...” Yuri purred, lips dragging along Otabek’s neck. “So strong. You should have won, but hey, I don’t get to make those decisions, do I, Beka?”

“Y-Yura.” Otabek stuttered, gasping as Yuri slowly ground his denim-clad thigh against the Kazakh skaters groin. 

“You were incredible, so powerful.” Yuri muttered against the skin of Otabek’s neck, grinding his thigh against his embarrassing yet rapidly growing erection. “The things I’ve wanted to do... the way you make me feel... tell me, Beka, is it mutual?”

Otabek would be lying if he said he didn’t love Yuri Plisetsky. 

Back in Barcelona, even before Barcelona, Otabek had seen Yuri as nothing more than a friend. The strong willed Russian was short, skinny and spunky at the start of their friendship, but then things changed. 

Or more accurately, Yuri changed.

It was no secret amongst figure skaters that the window of time between youth and the transition into adolescence was a short one. 

For Yuri, it had been particularly hard once his body began to change following the off-season of the 2016/17 season. No longer was Yuri a short, skinny teen, oh no. He’d grown into a tall, broad shouldered, slender young man.

Otabek knew personally that the rapid transition of delayed puberty was tough, he’d struggled through it himself a few years ago. The growth spurts, the increased muscle mass – it was painful, it threw off his centre of gravity. Puberty was hard for any skater, and he knew Yuri wasn’t taking the metamorphosis well, he wasn’t used to struggling and had even confided in Otabek about his thoughts of early retirement, but thankfully had decided to continue and push through his struggles with his changing body.

Otabek licked his lips, the silence hung heavily in the air as Yuri stared down at him, tilting his head as if he were a predator sizing up his prey.

“I want you Beka, do you want me?” Yuri purred, grinding his thigh into Otabek’s groin as smirking at the whine that ripped itself from Otabek’s throat.

“Y-yes, I want you, yes Yura please.” Otabek breathed in reply, gasping as Yuri gripped his thigh through his loosening towel, pressing his own denim clad thigh harder against Otabek’s groin and eliciting a pitiful whine from the older skater.

Yuri took Otabek’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head up into a kiss.

This kiss was nothing like the ones they had shared in the past amongst the adrenaline fuelled mania of the Barcelona gala or the timid half-kiss that had occurred accidentally in Otabek’s room before he’d been caught by his roommate. 

Those kisses had been rushed and chaste; this was slow and demanding. Otabek found he could do nothing but melt into the intense passion of Yuri’s kisses, arms draping around the Russian’s broad shoulders and gasp into Yuri’s mouth as he parted his lips to allow the blondes eager tongue in. 

If it was possible for a tongue to be so sinful yet perfect then this was it. Otabek wasn’t a vocal person, but Yuri seemed to be pulling groans from him with just kisses and grinding.

Yuri pulled away suddenly with a breathy moan, lashes fluttering hazels, smirking at Otabek’s disappointed whine. 

“Yura... please...” Otabek breathed.

“Please what?” Yuri purred.

“Do something!” Otabek whined desperately, rocking against Yuri’s thigh and yelping as the younger skater gripped his hips, pressing them against the locker and effectively halting his movements, the front of the towel coming loose and exposing him to the cold air of the locker room as the white fabric slipped to a pile on he tiled floor.

“Something? Anything?” Yuri purred, grinding the denim of his jeans and the hard muscle of his thigh against the soft, slick and sensitive skin of Otabek’s cock and balls, emerald eyes gleaming at the strangled moan that ripped itself from his throat, the Kazakh skaters hands twisting the worn material of Yuri’s shirt.

“Yes!” Otabek gasped. “Anything Yura  _please_ _-_ ah!~” Otabek moaned as Yuri wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking the soft, hot skin gently.  _Fuck, it felt so good._

“Mm...” Yuri purred, pressing numerous rough kisses into Otabek’s sensitive neck, continuing to stroke him slowly. “Someone’s a big boy~” Otabek whined pathetically as Yuri brought a hand up to toy with one of his nipples. “You’re fucking hung, Beka, Jesus.  I always thought you were big but  _oh god~_ ” Yuri moaned against Otabek’s neck. “The things I want to do with that cock of yours.”

Otabek moaned helplessly as Yuri bit into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, thumb swiping and rubbing over the tip of his cock, smearing the beads of precum over the sensitive, reddened tip.

“Leaking already?” Yuri cooed. “We can’t have you jumping the gun too soon, can we?” Yuri asked, tightening his hand around the base of Otabek’s cock. “I  want to take my time with you~”

Yuri spun them around, sitting down on the bench with his legs spread, pulling Otabek into his lap and sucking hickies into Otabek’s neck.

“Yura wait- Yura please people will see...” Otabek protested half-heartedly as purplish bruises began to  litter the tanned skin of his neck and shoulders.

“Good. You’re mine and they should know that.” Yuri growled, punctuating his sentence with a bite to Otabek’s collarbone. “On your knees for me, Beka, please?”

Otabek nodded, raising himself up onto his knees, Yuri trailing kisses down his navel and taking his cock in hand.

“You like it when I boss you around, don’t you?” Yuri murmured, licking his palm and stroking Otabek, twisting his wrist of the down stroke in the exact way Otabek loved. “No wonder you’re so wet.”

Otabek moaned, Yuri chuckling and lowering his kisses, pressing a sloppy kiss against he head of Otabek’s cock, causing the latter to moan loudly and press his hand against the locker in front of him.

“Like that?” Yuri cooed, grinning at Otabek’s moan and timid nod. “Use your words.”

“Y-yes I-I like it. A-a lot.” Otabek mumbled tentatively, feeling his ears burn from a horrifying mixture of arousal and embarrassment. 

“Do you want more?” Yuri asked, stroking Otabek’s cock in long, slow tugs.

“Yes, Yura, please~” Otabek pleaded, breath hitching as Yuri wrapped his hips around the tip of his cock, swirling his tongue and suckling gently. “Fuck~” Otabek moaned as Yuri began to take him into his mouth.

Mischievous viridescent eyes stared up through golden lashes into Otabek’s dark hazel, as Yuri squeezed Otabek’s ass, nails digging into the muscular flesh and Yuri’s nose nuzzled into the thatch of curls at the very end of Otabek’s abdomen, his plush lips sucking firmly around the base of Otabek’s cock.

Otabek tilted his head back and moaned as Yuri bobbed his head, tongue fluttering along the underside of his cock, massaging the globes of his taut ass, fingers slowly creeping between the cheeks.

“Yura~ Yura~” Otabek moaned, hands sliding into Yuri’s flowing locks. 

Yuri gently scraped his teeth over the underside of Otabek’s cock, pulling back to lave his tongue over the tip and revel in the restrained moans tumbling from Otabek’s parted lips.

He had no idea when Yuri had put lube on his fingers – or where said lube even came from in the first place – but he felt his thighs quiver as he dragged his nails over the enamel coated steel of the lockers as Yuri teased two cold, slick fingers around the rim of his hole, reducing the languid licks on his tip to teasing laps.

“Oh god~ Yura” Otabek gasped, shuddering as a finger finally breached the tight ring of muscle between the cheeks of his ass, sliding in smoothly. “Y-Yura~”

“Yes, that’s it, baby. Enjoy it, lose yourself in your pleasure, you deserve it.” Yuri breathed huskily after pulling off his cock, pressing lazy kisses into the sharp V of Otabek’s hips.

Otabek keened as Yuri rocked his finger slowly, the former reaching down and gripping the latter’s loose black shirt, tugging on the material as another finger breached his hole.

“Too much?” Yuri asked softly.

“Not enough.” Otabek breathed, rolling his hips against Yuri’s slowly rocking fingers. “I need more, Yura please- fuck!~” Otabek moaned as Yuri crooked his fingers, the glint in his eye turning dark as a smug smirk curled onto his red, spit-slick lips.

Otabek tipped his head back, moaning and rolling his hips as Yuri pressed his curled fingers into Otabek’s prostate, the stimulation sending small shocks of pleasure up Otabek’s spine and made pearlescent drops of pre-ejaculate seep from his cock. Slowly, Yuri pushed a third finger in, Otabek moaning at the pain-pleasure of the burning stretch. It was too much and not enough he wanted – no, needed – more.

“Yura, g-gonna come Yura please.” Otabek gasped. “I-I need...! I need...”

“What do you need, Beka?” Yuri asked, voice husky. “I’ll give you anything you need.”

“F-fuck me, Yura.” Otabek mumbled in reply, reaching down to press his hand into the tented bulge of Yuri’s jeans, hearing the Russian inhale sharply through grit teeth. “Please, I want you inside me.”

“B-Beka-” Yuri breathed, hips rocking against the minimal stimulation and pressure provided by Otabek’s palm.

“Please. Yura I need you inside me.” Otabek said, cutting Yuri off and slipping out of his lap.

The tiles were cold and hard against Otabek’s knees as he knelt between Yuri’s legs, sliding his hands up Yuri’s shirt and feeling every ridge of slender muscle as he nuzzled his cheek into the bulge of Yuri’s jeans, hearing his breath hitching and inhaling his musky scent.

He tilted his head, taking the gold tinted metal of the zipper between his teeth and tugging it down slowly, unbuttoning the jeans with deft fingers and nuzzling his nose against the tented purple boxers, pressing his mouth against the outline of Yuri’s cock and feeling pride swell within with the small moans and mewls pulling themselves from Yuri’s throat.

“Beka...” Yuri gasped, gripping the bench and raising his hips slightly, Otabek taking the chance to tug the boxers down, licking his lips as Yuri’s hard, pink cock bobbed in his face, head shiny and wet with precum.

Gently, he took Yuri in his hand, stroking slowly and pressing a kiss to the head, feeling Yuri’s thighs tensing slightly on either side of Otabek’s shoulders.

“B-Beka, fuck~” Yuri gasped as Otabek swirled his tongue over the tip, tasting the salty musk of the pearlescent precum.

Looking up at Yuri through thick, dark lashes, gazing at Yuri’s face, twisted and contorted in pleasure as Otabek took the hard flesh into his warm, wet mouth.

“Okay,  _okay_  I get it  _god_.” Yuri gasped, tugging Otabek’s hair and pushing him off of his cock. “You’re so fucking needy Beka.” He chuckled, pulling out the bottle of lube from nowhere as Otabek rose to his feet and chambered back onto the bench, kneeling above Yuri once more.

“Where did that come from?” Otabek asked, raising a brow as he watched Yuri slick himself up with long, slow strokes.

“Hm?” Yuri asked, gently gripping Otabek’s hips and angling them until his hole nudged against the tip of Yuri’s cock.

“The lube.” Otabek clarified as Yuri ran a hand from his hip to one of his thighs. “Where did it come fr- Oh!~” Otabek moaned, gripping Yuri’s shoulder as the latter cut him off by pulling Otabek down and canting his hips up, thrusting into Otabek until he was firmly seated in Yuri’s lap.

The stretch was bearable, Otabek was no stranger to this kind of pleasure - after all one can only can have so much fun with just their hand and their dick – but what seemed to be so overwhelming to Otabek was the acre realisation of  _holy shit,_ _I have my best friends dick up my ass._

“You okay?” Yuri asked, cupping Otabek’s jaw. “Do you want to stop? Do you just need a minute? Was it too much?”

Too much? Maybe. The stretch certainly burned, but in a way that was overwhelmingly good. It was sudden, but welcome and exciting.

“J-just... give me a minute t-to adjust, okay?” Otabek stammered out shakily. “I just need a minute.”

Yuri was patient while Otabek adjusted to the new intension in his body, running his hands along the taut, tan skin of Otabek’s thighs, pressing kisses into Otabek’s neck and whispering sweet nothings against his skin.

“You’re beautiful, Beka.” Yuri murmured. “So strong, so powerful, so perfect.”

Otabek moaned, rocking his hips slowly, smirking when Yuri moaning breathily against his neck, gripping his thigh.

“Fuck~ I’m guessing you’re good to go now?” Yuri asked with a breathless chuckle, running his hands along Otabek’s body, nimble fingers following every dip and curve of Otabek’s muscular back until they slid down to his hips, gripping them with a gentle firmness.

Otabek nodded, pursing his lips and placing his hands on Yuri’s shoulders for leverage, knees bracketing Yuri’s hips as he rolled his hips, raising himself up off Yuri’s lap before dropping down, both moaning at the friction.

Yuri canted his hips up in reply to the movement of Otabek’s hips, causing the latter to jolt and bounce slightly, moaning as his core clenched, beginning to work himself over the Russian’s cock.

Otabek bit his lip, leaning back a little and shifting the angle of his hips, feeling Yuri’s hands shift further up his back to keep him steady as he rocked his hips down, ass brushing Yuri’s lap and a sudden cry ripping itself from Otabek’s throat as Yuri hit his prostate.

“Found it?” Yuri asked, thrusting up into Otabek and grinning at the loud moans coming from his typically stoic friend.

 _Friends...?_ Otabek found himself asking.  _Is that what we are now? Or... are we more?_ _What does he want out of this? A quick fuck and_ _back to normal? Friends with benefits?_ No, Otabek didn’t feel like he could live with Yuri just wanting him for a quick fuck and friendship... no... Otabek wanted a deeper connection than that.

All thoughts of this matter were washed from Otabek’s mind as Yuri began to grind the head of his cock into Otabek’s prostate. 

“Y-ye- oh  _fuck_ _._  Yeah~” Otabek gasped, brow scrunching as his fingers twisted in the thin cotton of Yuri’s shirt, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against the soft, smooth skin of his ass and thighs. “Right there~” Otabek moaned, rocking back on Yuri’s cock with increasing desperation. “Don’t stop Yura~”

Yuri nodded below him, pulling him closer and thrusting up into him harshly, moaning and pressing rough kisses into Otabek’s neck, the sounds of moans, rough cries and skin slapping against skin – well mostly skin against denim – filled the usually quiet atmosphere of the locker room, a lustful haze filling Otabek’s head. 

His thighs trembled, his abdomen clenched as a heat coiled low in his stomach – he was close.

“Y-Yura...” He gasped, tilting his head back as he rocked against Yuri. “C-close... can’t... much longer Yura please.”

“Just a bit more.” Yuri grunted. “Almost... Beka please hold on for me-”

“Otabek?” Came a muffled call from behind the door, followed by banging. “Otabek!”

“Yura,” Otabek panted in his haze. “Th-there’s someone at the door Yura-”

“Just a bit more Beka please.” Yuri growled, thrusting harder into Otabek, every thrust hitting his prostate perfectly and causing him to jerk and moan.

“Otabek? Otabek c’mon!” The calling and banging continued.

“Y-yur-ah~” Otabek stammered, nails digging into Yuri’s arm.

“I’m almost...”

Otabek clamped a hand over his mouth as pleasure over took his body, a wave of heat rolling through his body. Yes, yes he was-

Sitting in his bed.

Alone.

The sweat cooling on his skin as he bolted upright, tank top and sweats sticking to his body, a tell-tale stickiness and throbbing in his groin.

“Oh, you’re awake now.” Came a sleepy murmur.

Otabek’s roommate was learning out of the bed from across him, selfie stick oddly in hand.

“What?” Otabek asked, blinking.

“You were moving around and groaning in your sleep. Thought it was another nightmare.” His roommate explained, yawning. “So I poked you.”

Blood rose to Otabek’s head, staining his face red as heat gathered in his cheeks.

Well... that explains a lot.

Thankful for the darkness, Otabek chambered out of bed, the cold night air of Pyeongchang biting at his skin through his night clothes at some he rooted through the drawers of his night table for the spare set of pyjamas, walking to the bathroom.

“You okay?” his roommate asked. “Are you gonna throw up? Do you need me to get you some water?”

“No... just need a shower...” Otabek mumbled in reply, flicking on the bathroom light.

“ _Oh_ okay. I get it. Completely different kind of dream.” 

“Go back to sleep.” Otabek said, feeling his ears burn in embarrassment.

“We’re both men.” His roommate snickered.

“I am  _so_ glad I’m only stuck with you for another week.” Otabek deadpanned, shutting and locking the door behind him, his roommates laughter fading as the door clicked shut.

The roommate Otabek had been paired with for Pyeongchang was relatively nice, they had known each other in the past as they were both figure skaters from Kazakhstan, born and raised in Almaty, Otabek must have been his only competition for a long time. No wonder he gave up on nationals.

His roommate was older, and had qualified by default due to a high world rankings despite being injured and Otabek begging him not to compete at risk of further injuring his ankle. 

They shared similar interests – music, history, dance, photography – they got along well though Otabek found his roommate could be a bit snarky for his tastes at times.  _Kind of like an older brother,_  he thought fondly.

Running a hand through his hair, Otabek stripped off quickly, wanting to be rid of the sweaty, sticky clothing with a sigh.

He dumped his clothes in the laundry basket, stretching his stiff back with a groan and crossing the small, compact bathroom to turn the shower on, laughing softly at the sign taped on the wall reading; ‘화장실에서 샤워를하지 마십시오 – please do not shower in the toilet.’

Otabek remembered fondly how amusing he and his roommate had found this, and Leo had even told him a member of the American team had jokingly mentioned how tempted he was to actually do it.

He pulled aside the powder blue curtain, quickly turning on the shower and setting the temperature dial to hot, decidedly not risking a cold in the less than tepid weather of Pyeongchang and waiting for the water to heat.

This usually  took around thirty to forty-five seconds, so Otabek stepped back from the shower with a sigh as the water began to run.

He turned bleakly to look at his reflection in the mirror, the steam slowly fogging up the cool glass.

He looked tired, there was no denying that after the past week he’d be exhausted. A deep red flush stained his tanned skin from his cheeks and lead down to his thighs where his cock embarrassingly hung half-hard and slick with the effects of that dream-

_Forget about it._

_It means nothing._

_You’re just friends._

_He doesn’t want you like that._

_You can’t have him._

Otabek shook his head, stepping into the shower and drawing the curtain shut behind him, stepping under the spray and feeling the jets of hot water bead down against his skin.

The spray was stronger hand shower in his dream-

_Don’t think about it._

_It means nothing._

_You’re just depraved and desperate._

Otabek sighed, leaning back against the shower wall and letting the water run down through his scalp down along the angular planes of his face.

He reached down for his bottle of shower gel, uncapping it as quietly as possible and squeezing some into his hand, the thick, white liquid smooth in his palm and bearing a soft floral scent.

 _Heheh it looks like cum._ The devil on Otabek’s shoulder chortled.

 _You’re_ _pathetic and_ _depraved_ _._ The angel on his other shoulder sighed.

Otabek at his point guessed he must’ve been extremely tired by this point to even be imagining the duality of his moral compass personified, let alone the image of his perfect, angelic self pinching his brow in frustration and the mesh and leather clad devil counterpart.

_I need to fucking sleep, my god._

Otabek sighed, lathering his body and inhaling deeply through his nose. His eyes dropped closed with the heat of the shower and exhaustion seeping back into his bones, snapping back open with a soft moan as his thumb unconsciously played with his nipple.

_Stop that._

Otabek’s hand stilled as his gaze drifted down to his still semi-erect cock.

He chewed his lip, weighing his options.

It was too cold for a cold shower, he could risk a cold and that was definitely not how he wanted to spend his free week in the Olympic village.

He was too tired to will it down, and it had been a while...

_You have a roommate you dick-brained nutsack._

_Yeah, good point. But what’s more awkward; going back to bed with a bone_ _r_ _, jacking it with him in the_ _next bed or taking care of it in the shower where he can’t really hear it?_

_Vulgar, but you have a point._

Otabek chewed his bottom lip, moving the curtain and checking he’d locked the door before drawing it back shut and running his soap-slick hands over his wet chest, toying with his nipples and pursing his lips, inhaling sharply and repressing a moan as his cock twitched between his thighs.

Otabek was admittedly practiced in being quiet while, ahem, taking care of himself. While he didn’t do it on a daily or even weekly basis, Otabek did have some semblance of a sex drive, as a lot of (but not all) people had. He was just usually so busy he never really was able to regularly pleasure himself, but he never really minded.

Back in his teenage years he lived primarily in dorms travelling through Russia, the US and Canada. Like a lot of teenagers, the influx of hormones led to... self-discoveries, which led to Otabek learning to keep himself quiet when the opportunity arose.

He ran a hand through the thin suds slipping down his body, fingers running over every dip in his abs as he gently wrapped a hand around himself. 

He tilted his head back against the cool tile of the shower, biting his lip as he stroked his cock to fully hard, swiping his thumb over the head and the foreskin rolling down with every soapy drag of his fist.

His fingers toyed with his nipple, pinching and twisting the dusky bud until hard and puffy, speeding up the languid drags of his hand around his cock.

Images flashed through Otabek’s mind. Of heated gazes, rough, desperate touches. All of that was just a dream but oh how he longed for it to be real. 

_But it can’t be._

He stroked himself a little faster, twisting his hand on the down stroke and flicked his thumb under the tip, inhaling sharply through his nostrils and biting back a moan.

It had been a while since Otabek had last... relieved himself, so his stamina wasn’t what it usually was and he could feel the heat pooling in his belly, thighs tensing. 

 _More_ _,_ a carnal whine begged in the back of his mind.  _Need more..._

His mind flashed back to the dream, to Yuri’s imaginary fingers gripping his hips and fucking him with a bruising force that made his thighs tremble just thinking about it. He didn’t have any lube but he was tired and horny and desperate, he needed more that a hand around his cock.

He raised his hand from his chest to his lips, spitting into it as quietly as possible and sliding that hand between his thighs as he pressed a finger against the rim of his hole, biting his lips to restrain a moan. He widened his stance, leaning against the wall and praying he didn’t fall and break his neck.

_That’d be an embarrassing headline..._ _Kazakh_ _figure skater_ _and Olympia_ _n_ _Otabek Altin found dead in the shower at 19 with a broken neck_ _in what seemed to be an accident involving a wet floor and anal_ _masturbation_ _._

_I wonder how Yura would feel about that..._

_Would he cry that I was dead? Or laugh because I died jacking it in the shower? At least he’d never know it was about him._ _.._

_Okay. Enough of all that._

He tilted his head back against the wall, rubbing his rim until the tight ring of muscle loosened and relaxed, allowing him to slowly push a finger in with a slight burn. He rocked his finger gently, stroking his cock slowly as he bit back whines and whimpers, trying to keep his breathing as even as possible to not raise suspicions.

Otabek sighed, telling himself to relax as he pushed another finger in, inhaling sharply at the slight burn.

 _I really should have used actual lube..._   _it’s fine. Two fingers are enough._

He rocked his fingers slowly, stroking himself gently as he adjusted to the stretch, his mind flashing back to the hurried prep in his dream, the thought of Yuri’s fingers inside him making him clench desperately around his own.

Otabek angled his hips slightly, crooking his fingers and-  _there! Yes, fuck there!_

His eyes widened as he tipped his head back against the wall, biting his lip and stroking himself as he rubbed the pads of his fingers against his prostate, the stimulation sending sparks of electricity up his spine as the hot water dripped from the shower head down onto the planes of Otabek’s tensed muscles.

_Stay quiet. Stay quiet._

Otabek squeezed his eyes closed, pursing his lips tightly and brow furrowing as he sped up the hand around his cock, feeling it twitch and throb, begging for release while he continued to rock his fingers inside himself, rubbing small circles against the sensitive gland as Otabek forced back a tumult of lustful moans.

He was close, so close it was almost unbearable and near impossible to hold himself up as the muscles in his thighs twitched and trembled, the hot droplets of water beading against his skin almost overwhelming in a strange sense as he swiped his thumb over the reddened head of his cock, pressing against his prostate from within.

Otabek came with a restrained gasp, too busy with the waves of pleasure rolling through his body to pray that the sound of the shower covered up the sighs of ecstasy whispering out of Otabek’s throat as his abdomen seized up and his muscles clenched tightly around his fingers, thighs trembling and jerking shut with a slap against Otabek’s arm, thick ropes of white cum spurting onto his abdomen, some even reaching his chest as his eyes rolled back in his head.

He stayed there for a while, endorphins racing though his veins as the hot water washed away the stickiness on his chest, slipping his fingers out of is ass and sliding down the wall until he was sat on the floor of the shower, tipping his head back under the spray. 

Otabek had no idea how long he sat there under the shower. 

It could have been seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour. (Probably not)

He stood up on shaky legs and finished cleaning off, shutting off the spray and stepping out, into the comparatively cold bathroom, shivering as he dried off and threw on his clean pyjamas.

Otabek unlocked the door, turning off the bathroom light and staggering out, flopping onto his bed, landing face first and rolling over to pull the covers back over himself.

He noticed the white glow of his roommates phone screen, finding him still awake.

“You’re still up?” Otabek asked, settling under the covers.

“Leg hurts.” He explained with a noncommittal shrug.

“You’ve been taking the painkillers, right?” Otabek asked.

“Yeah. Just waiting for them to kick in.”

“You should rest.” 

His roommate shrugged again, swiping through something on his phone, silence filling the room.

“You have something on your mind.” His roommate noted after a few minutes. 

“I’m fine.” Otabek replied, the response coming out more defensive than intended. 

“Bek. We’ve been competing together since we were like, five.”

“You mean when I was five and you were nine going on ten.” Otabek corrected.

“Ugh you know what I mean. What I’m trying to say is I know when somethings bothering you.” He replied, turning off his phone and setting it aside, turning towards Otabek and wincing slightly. “I need a distraction and we’re stuck together. Tell me what’s on your mind, and your secrets will be safe with me unless they’re genuinely dangerous to yourself or others.”

Otabek chewed his lip, pulling the covers up to his neck.

“Have you ever been in love?” Otabek asked quietly. 

“Wow, this is some middle school sleepover shit.” He chuckled.

“Answer the question.” Otabek sighed.

“I’m older than you but I’m not  _that_  old. To answer you honestly, I don’t really know.”

“Have you ever felt like... like you’re in love with someone but you can’t have them?” Otabek asked. “Like, you’re already close to them, and you don’t want to ruin what you have already but at the same time you want more?”

“... You’re in love with your best friend.” His roommate deduced. “The Russian one, Yuri.” 

Otabek felt his ears burn in embarrassment, though he nodded.

“I-I think so.” Otabek admitted. “What do you think I should do?”

“Tell him. Don’t leave anything unsaid.” 

“Do you have any idea how much would be at stake?!” Otabek asked, sitting up. “He’s my best friend!”

“Whoa, easy there, Altin. I’m not suggesting you kill his mother or anything like that, calm down.”

“He could think I’m a creep and hate me forever.” Otabek sighed, flopping back down onto his bed.

“If he says no, tell him you understand and that you’re fine with just being friends because what matters to you is his happiness.” His roommate replied. “If he hates you, then you have to live with that, give him time and maybe he’ll be civil about it. If he wants you back, then remember to use protection.”

“Fuck off.” Otabek groaned.

“Protection is important for everyone regardless of gender and sexuality.” 

“I am aware but can you please shut up.” Otabek murmured.

“Besides we have enough to last us decades.” His roommate teased, throwing one of the many provided condoms at Otabek from his bedside.

“Why do you have those? I thought you said if you couldn’t have fun then I couldn’t either.” Otabek asked, throwing it back.

“I did, but they’re free.” 

The room fell back into silence as Otabek started up at the ceiling through the darkness.

“Look, the way I see it; you two are practically dating anyway.” His roommate sighed after a long silence.

“We’re just friends.” Otabek sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“ ‘Just friends’ don’t sit in each other’s laps, sharing their clothes and cuddling while one of them braids their hair.” His roommate mate said pointedly.

“We’re just close.”

“If you say so.”

Silence fell over the room once more, this time left unbroken as his roommate rolled over and went to sleep, leaving Otabek alone in the darkness.

He pulled the blanket tighter over his body, forcing his eyes shut as he rolled over.

_You can’t have him._

**Author's Note:**

> As you can tell i have a thing for Otabek  
> tumblr: nerdqueensblogbitches.tumblr.com  
> nsfw: nsfwofnerdqueen.tumblr.com
> 
> yes this is gonna be a series fite me


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